


Devouring Foundations

by Kiiratam



Category: RWBY
Genre: Canon Compliant, Discussed Polyamory, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Good Cat Dad, Light Angst, Movie Premiere, horror movie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-03
Updated: 2020-01-03
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:33:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22097974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiiratam/pseuds/Kiiratam
Summary: Blake has been working too hard, and her father suggests going out for a movie. Of course, it's never that simple...Takes place in Volume 5, some time between Chapters 5 and 8. (My BMBLB fic index)
Relationships: Blake Belladonna/Yang Xiao Long, Ghira Belladonna/Kali Belladonna
Comments: 15
Kudos: 67





	Devouring Foundations

"Blake, did you have any plans for tonight?"

  
Tearing her eyes from her empty list of names, Blake looked up at her father. "Just canvassing the nocturnal district." She frowned. It was getting harder and harder to stay motivated. "Why?"

  
"I thought you might want to go to a movie. Just the two of us."

  
Blake made some assumptions. "Mom's busy with Sun?"

  
Ghira nodded, and sat down in the chair across from her. "They're going to a concert. Vacuo desert drumming."

  
Her head hurt just thinking about it. "Oh." _So much for the nocturnal district. My manpower's been cut in half._

  
"Besides, I recognize that look in your eyes. From my mirror. You should-"

  
"-take a break?" Blake knew she should. This was becoming an obsession. She hadn't pulled too many all-nighters, but... Blake had a sudden memory of a Beacon classroom, fogged at the edges with the sleep deprivation she'd been suffering at the time. "All right."

  
Her father snorted. "You're handling this better than I thought. You must be more sensible than me."

  
Blake put her list down. "I... kind of already had a conversation about taking breaks from projects. Earlier this year. I wasn't very sensible then."

  
She watched her father almost ask several questions. In a detached way, she thought he looked like a man determined to cross a minefield. But he seemed willing to take his time. Which shouldn't surprise her. Blake had already run away from home once. Her father clearly didn't want her to do it again.

  
_I shouldn't have done it in the first place. I was an idiot. I thought I was in love. And when my parents tried to talk me out of it-_

  
_Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
_Safer ground. Take it to safer ground._

  
"What movie?" She didn't know what was out. Blake kept being surprised how ordinary life had just carried on, despite the fall of Beacon, and the CCTS going down. Of course new movies had kept coming out.

  
"We can go to whatever you want." _That wasn't like him at all. Usually, there was a-_ "But we do already have tickets to a premiere." _-bigger picture._ "It's the first film from Menagerie's first production company."

  
Blake nodded, mostly to show that she was following along. "And you think it would help if you showed up."

  
"And the director was a good friend, years ago."

  
_Of course they were._ Blake had long ago resigned herself to the fact that her parents knew everyone. It was why she hadn't been surprised when a letter from her parents had showed up at Beacon.

  
Not that she'd opened the letter. She had been too much of a coward. Like always. Always running away.

  
_Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
"Anyone I know?"

  
"Do you remember Aunt Ches?" _Nope._ "You wouldn't have been very old; six, seven? We were in Mistral."

  
_I don't know, Dad, all cities look the same from inside of a cloud of tear gas._

  
_That's not fair. They tried to keep you away from those protests._

  
Blake forced down old memories, a catalog of injuries that she'd collected for The Cause. Starting before she even really understood what they were fighting for. "I don't remember, sorry."

  
Her father held up a hand. "That's fine. It was a long time ago." He settled back in his chair. "If you want to go, it's an excuse to dress-up. I know you went shopping with your mother. And we don't have many occasions for fancy dress."

  
"I don't think I'm going to be as useful as Mom." Blake just didn't have the energy to keep the entire guest list in her head, _and_ make good conversation _and_ be beautiful _and_ eavesdrop _and_ play all the power games of society _and_ -

  
"Honey, I don't mean for this to be a high-stakes social gathering. We can just be part of the crowd. Mingle, watch a movie, come home." He snorted. "At most, someone will ask what we thought. There will be actors there, and they want all the cameras pointed at them."

  
_I know he's not lying. Not on purpose. But... I just don't know if I want to go out._

  
"And it isn't like the movie itself is going to be emotionally draining. It's... well, let me just read you the ad copy." Ghira pulled his scroll out, and flicked through it. "Here we are: 'Saturday detention. Nothing worse, right? Nine teens are going to learn how wrong they are about that. What gnawing horror lurks beneath their school's foundations?'" He looked up at her. "Probably not going to take itself seriously."

  
_Why did that sound familiar?_ "What was the movie called?"

  
" **Devouring Foundations**."

  
_That's why. It was one of the dumb horror movies Yang was looking forward to. With an all Faunus cast. So at least one of them will survive till the end._

  
_...If I watch it, I can let her know if it's any good. After all of this is... After._

  
"When does it start?"

* * *

  
Blake had to admit, the new theater was impressive. Someone had realized they'd never get enough space with a big, prestigious theater, as cramped as Kuo Kuana was. So they'd looked at the bare mountains nearby, and all the Faunus with mining experience, and done the Faunus thing, and worked with what they had. The whole theater was carved out of a spur of the mountain, and the interior was lavishly lit and decorated with wall hangings and richly colored carpets. The ceilings were tall enough that Blake barely felt like she was underground. Even if a litany of mining disasters was running through her mind. But she told herself firmly that this rock wasn't Dust-bearing - it wasn't going to explode.

  
There _were_ a lot of people here. And even with all the fabric to absorb sound, the acoustics of the entry hall just amplified the noise. Blake tried to keep her ears from flattening, and clung to her father's arm. She'd resisted the urge to drape her sari over her head, mainly because she knew her mother was right. Sometimes, trying to hide just made you more conspicuous. So here she was, midriff bare, in the purple and gold sari her mother had talked her into getting. Her hair and ears were heavy with jewelry she'd borrowed from her mother. Blake was going to have to fight to return them, she knew already. She'd recognized the look on her mother's face. Her repeated refusals to amass a jewelry box (or two, or eight) had been going on since before Blake had left. Maybe her mother thought that returning to familiar arguments would be comforting?

  
...It was, somehow. Somehow, that was almost more irritating. Blake sighed on the inside, keeping a polite smile on her face. No one was really paying attention to her, but that was because she was blending in. If she started sighing, and looking mopey, Blake just knew that some enterprising 'journalist' would pounce on it. 'Strife in the Belladonna Household!' 'How can Our Chief keep Menagerie Morale up, if he can't manage his own house?'

  
She hadn't particularly missed _this_ part of life with her parents either. Still better than tear gas.

  
Her father smiled down at her, patting her arm. "See anyone familiar?"

  
Blake scanned the riotous colors and features of the crowd. Horns, tails, wings, ears, fins, fur, all covered by the finest fabrics on Menagerie, against the cool brown of the rock. "That looks like Uncle Sardo by the staircase." There was more white in his russet hair, now, but those tall, straight horns were unmistakable.

  
"He's always easy to pick out of a crowd. I believe he's just back from Atlas, getting a fresh band of public defenders settled."

  
"Uncle Matyas in the gold half-cloak." It was a nice contrast with his black feathers.

  
"I need to talk with him. We have to talk about prospectors." He caught the look Blake was giving him. "Later."

  
A woman in a sleek red dress was walking towards them, trailing a crowd of photographers and reporters. Her hair was done up in a coiffure of white and black braids, emphasizing her feline ears - one black, one white. And she had a broad grin on her face that was just hauntingly familiar. Blake didn't think she had enough time to get a brief from her father, so she just tried to smile back, and hoped that an introduction was coming.

  
"Ghira, you old tom! You didn't tell me you were coming!" There was enough warmth in her voice that Blake didn't bristle. Much. The woman lowered her eyes from Ghira to Blake. "Don't tell me you traded in Kali for a newer model!" Blake decided that she hadn't bristled quite enough.

  
"Chesandra, you've met my daughter before. Blake?"

  
"Ches, Ghira, Ches." She managed to grin wider. Somehow. "We don't see each other for a decade, and suddenly you get all formal with me again."

  
Blake _still_ didn't remember Aunt Ches, and she was _quite_ satisfied with that state of affairs. The grin, though - she remembered the grin, but not from her childhood.

  
Cocking her head, Ches looked Blake up and down. Like she was sizing up an opponent. Or a meal. Or... Yang had mentioned 'lust eyebeams' at one point. That fit too. "Blaaaaake, yes."

  
_That wasn't creepy at all. ...But I guess if she's a horror movie director..._

  
"Have you ever done any modeling? Or acting? Your mother was always too much of a scaredy-cat to tag along with me."

  
Blake kept her smile plastered in place. She knew it must look horribly fake. "Only with friends."

  
"That's no way to break into the big leagues, kitten."

  
_...Kitten. **Seriously**?!_ "I prefer to _actually_ help people."

  
"Looking at you is helping me."

  
Blake felt her father's arm tense. Before he could say anything, she snapped back, "That line's older than you are."

  
Ches laughed. "Oh, she **does** have claws! I wondered!"

  
Her father cleared his throat. "Congratulations on your latest film, Ches. I'm sure it will be wonderful."

  
Swatting his chest, Ches laughed again. "Latest! So far as the world is concerned, this is my first! I burned all the prints from my film student days, and good riddance!"

  
"I liked **Unsaid Words to Die By**. I still have the copy you gave me."

  
"Spit. I forgot about that one." She put a look on her face that Blake just found cloying, and sidled up _much_ too close to Ghira's other side. "Would you be a dear and get rid of that?"

  
"Ches, you can't just forget the past. It provides valuable context-"

  
"Ghira, _darling_ , I'm not forgetting the past. I'm _rejecting_ it."

  
Blake felt her father shift uncomfortably and ask, barely audible. "Can we not refight old battles?"

  
Laughing, Ches stepped back. "Live in the moment? Of course." She glanced around. "I'd love to stay and chat with you and your _lovely_ daughter, but it looks like I have actors to wrangle and critics to lubricate. Enjoy my first film!" Flashing a last grin at them - _why was it so familiar?_ \- she headed off through the crowd with a strut, followed by her media-lings.

  
Her father reached down and squeezed her hand. "Something to drink?" He made eye contact with her, blinked slowly.

  
_We can talk about her later. Rant, probably._ She blinked back. "Good idea." Blake let her father steer her in the direction of the bar.

  
"What would you like? Have you found a favorite drink? Your mother goes back and forth between mojitos and tiger's milk, but I'm just not as young as I used to be. I just get a lemonade nowadays."

  
Blake had never heard her father babbling nervous. There was clearly a lot more history here than she knew. "A friend got me to try a strawberry sunrise. I like them."

  
Her father nodded, and disentangled his arm from her.

  
"Um, virgin, though." She _really_ didn't want to get into the habit of drinking when she was uncomfortable.

  
He nodded again, and stepped up to the bar, leaving Blake by herself in the crowd.

  
She wanted to fidget with the end of her sari, or adjust her jewelry, or _something_ , but Blake made herself relax into an easy stance. Not up on the balls of her feet, ready to dart to any side, but alert, aware, evenly spaced footing, ready to adjust to changing circumstances. Letting her Aura fill her ears, reaching out with it, pushing out her awareness. Hearing all the idle conversation around her, skimming through them, not hearing anything that concerned her... _wait_.

  
"...smile so familiar. It's tickling my mind." _Maybe this would be informative._

  
"Are you serious?"

  
"I'm a professional comedian, Esau. But yes. I just can't place her."

  
"Li, Rach, tell me he's joking. Izzy, really? Chesandra Hart?"

  
"Repeating her name isn't going to help."

  
"Chessy Hart? Sandra Spade? Maggie Hart? Chesty ♥?"

  
"Ummm..."

  
" **Revenge of the Blue Eyed Ghost**? Nice ass, **great** tits, beat to death with a baseball bat by her human beau? While he was possessed, of course."

  
"You're joking."

  
"Dear, we've established that no one in this conversation is joking."

  
Blake pulled her Aura back. She'd marathoned all the Blue Eyed Ghost movies with Yang one weekend. And a bunch of other people, drifting in and out of the common room. Ruby wandered away after **III** , Coco kept swinging by to catch the first twenty minutes, then vanished again, Jaune had excused himself after the first kill... **Revenge** was the... fourth? Fifth? They'd blurred together. But... take ten, twenty years off of 'Aunt' Ches, and... Blake knew she was turning red, and hoped that if anyone saw her, they'd just pass it off as too much make-up. At least she hadn't known this _before_ they'd talked. Because now she wouldn't _not_ be able to think about how the room had just gone silent when Ches' character took her top off, and Coco had made them rewind it, and Blake couldn't look at Yang for some reason-

  
"Strawberry sunrise." Her father handed her the orange drink, a blossom of pink at the bottom, and a cute heart-shaped strawberry on the rim. Blake hurriedly took a drink, hoping to cover her embarrassment, and only narrowly avoiding spilling it down her front. "I think we're starting soon. Want to find our seats?"

  
_Not soon enough._ Ches was on the staircase landing, waving for silence.

  
"Thank you all for coming! I could go on and on and _on_ about how much this means to me personally, and Masquerade Productions, and Menagerie and Faunus as a whole, but let's just pretend I did, it was all very emotional, and you all applauded."

  
Someone whooped and started clapping, and a wave of laughter and applause wandered around the expansive room.

  
Ches was wearing her grin again. "Dust and Bones, I hope you people give the film better applause. That was terrible! Take two, like you mean it!" She waggled her fingers, slowly raising her arms, conjuring applause and more laughter.

  
"Eh, we'll fix it in post. I'm going to let all of you guess how often I said that during filming."

  
From the bottom of the staircase came a shout. "Lots!" 

  
Extravagantly rolling her eyes, Ches said, "And that reminds me - thanks, Bryce - these kids are great. I wish I had half as much talent at their age. I mean, my only qualification was that I had a nice rack." She gestured at it.

  
"Still do!"

  
"Check is in the mail, Ignatia. And I know that not everyone here is really a horror movie fan, so I just want to remind everyone - especially the critics, who are already sharpening their pens for my back - that this isn't **Citizen-Commissar Sugar**. It's not meant to be. If you feel yourself experiencing a oneness with the universe, or transcendental joy when watching, flag down an usher, because it's probably just a stroke."

  
Blake started digging a hole for her expectations.

  
"But, it is still art. Fun art. I'll be honest, I'm going to be watching all of you, not the screen. I've seen every single frame of this, unless Juli added some behind my back. I want to see lust, laughter, disgust, drop-your-wallets _awe_ , but most of all, I want to see horror! Are you ready?"

  
The crowd clapped and whooped.

  
"What are you standing around for? Go, go, sit down! Bunch of animals."

  
Blake glanced up at her father.

  
"Yes, she's always been like this."

* * *

  
A reporter held out their recorder. "Chief, what did you think?"

  
"Brilliant. I've known Ches for a long time, and I'm thrilled she's finally achieved her dream."

  
"Her first theatrical release?"

  
"No, the exploding chest scene. Over a decade in the making, and worth every second."

  
The reporter seemed a bit taken aback by this, and they turned to Blake. "Miss Belladonna, anything to add?"

  
"I cannot _wait_ to show this to my friend. She's going to love it."

  
"How are you going to recommend it to her?"

  
"Um." Blake tried to think of something suitably horrific and sound-bite worthy. "My skin crawled off, and I think it's at home, hiding in my closet. Crying." She wasn't sure if that really made sense, but the reporter seemed content. They were moving on, at least. 

* * *

  
Blake was sitting at her mother's vanity, removing all of her borrowed jewelry. She could still hear drumming in the night, so the concert was evidently still going. And if her mother never got a chance to try to force her jewelry on Blake, so much the better. 

  
Her father patted her shoulder. "Thank you for coming. I didn't want to do that alone."

  
"Horror's always better with company." _Even if that's not what you mean._

  
"About Chesandra..."

  
Blake made a guess. "Messy break-up?"

  
Her father nodded. "Very. Yelling, throwing things... Still better than Sienna."

  
" _Please_ don't tell me that the ideological split in the White Fang was because you and Aunt Sienna broke up." Blake looked at her father's eyes in reflection.

  
"It certainly didn't help, but it wasn't the first word, or the last. It just made everything more personal." He started to say more, than shook his head. "Ask your mother, if you'd like assurances on that."

  
Blake pulled the last of the jewelry from her hair, and picked her hairbrush up from her lap. "She knows about all of this, right? You dating other people?"

  
Snorting, he said, "I'm flattered you think I could hide anything from her. Much less something like this. Even you knew, and we didn't spell out anything for you."

  
_I didn't **know** know until this conversation, but I definitely suspected._ She pulled the brush through her hair.

  
"We've been doing it since before we were married. Both of us. You remember Uncle Tukson?"

  
She did, and she still hadn't told her mother about... That he was...

  
_Breathe in, hold it, breathe out._

  
"It's just gotten harder. We're public figures now, and the power dynamics are... complicated."  
  


  
Blake asked the question she _really_ didn't want to. "What about her and Sun?"

  
"Don't be ridiculous. I'm not going to deny that your mother finds him attractive-"

  
_I can't **believe** I'm having this conversation._

  
"-but she's not going to interfere in your relationships." He coughed. "Whatever they are."

  
"I'm not dating him, Dad. He's just a friend." _An annoyingly persistent one. Sticking by me through probably the second worst decision of my life, after running away from home._ She sighed, and kept brushing her hair. "What happened to 'just a movie'?"

  
"Everything's complicated if you pay attention. Even cheap horror movies."


End file.
